


300 follower celebration

by parkerprotectionprogram



Category: Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Blood, Depictions of anxiety, F/M, Other, Wounds, requests from my 300 follower celebration on tumblr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-04
Updated: 2018-12-04
Packaged: 2019-09-07 05:14:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16847818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/parkerprotectionprogram/pseuds/parkerprotectionprogram
Summary: 300 followers on tumblr and an overabundance of love for peter parker led to this





	1. swim trunks

**Author's Note:**

> request: Hey, congrats on 300 omg!!!!!! That is so do amazing, I'm so happy for youuu!!! It is sweltering where I live, so could you maybe write a lifeguard!AU with Peter??? 💗 tysm and congratulations again!
> 
> a.n: hellooo my lovely!!! Thank you so much for requesting this I love this idea. Honestly the moment you said lifeguard I thought of that scene from Aquamarine and I started laughing. Thank you again love 💕

The new lifeguard is around your age and very cute. You can hear the giggles of the girls near you as you rub sunscreen onto your arms. You sneak a look at him and needless to say, their laughter isn’t misplaced.

Who knew Peter Parker was hiding all that under his clothes?

You bite your lip to muffle your own chuckles and look away before you fall over yourself. Betty Brant sits next to you, eyeing up the braver girls who have the bravery to go chat up the boy himself. His cheeks are as red as the swim trunks he wears but he replies distractedly, keeping an eye on the pool.

“They do know that’s the same boy they made fun of for liking LEGO’s, right?” She asks, and you stifle a snort.

“I doubt they care anymore,” you comment. “C’mon, let’s go for a swim.”

The water is cool against your skin and you’re thankful that it’s not as crowded today, only younger kids and the older girls who have congregated around Peter’s post. Betty splashes you lightly and you giggle when she accidentally gets water up her nose.

Everything goes downhill when you hear a yelp and you watch in muted horror as one of the younger kids - Cory, your next door neighbor’s son - slips and falls into the water of the deep end. You freeze but snap out of it the moment Peter swims past you to the little boy. You heave yourself up out of the pool and make your way as quick as possible to Cory’s side, pulling him out of Peter’s arms.

The poor boy is gasping and you feel sorry for him, watching him shake after his terrifying experience. Rubbing his back, you snap at the people hovering around him.

“Give him some room to breathe, guys,” Peter says softly, eyes on the boy as he sits next to him. “Hey, buddy, you feeling okay? That was quite the fall you took there.”

Cory manages to get out a nod and you sigh in relief.

“Where’s your mom, hon?” You ask gently.

He points in the direction of the cafe outside and you feel a twinge of annoyance at the woman for having left her kid. Said woman takes this moment to arrive, and you feel some of your annoyance fade ever so slightly as her face pales when Peter lets her know what just happened. You let go of Cory and you watch as she pulls him into a hug, clutching him tightly and checking him over.

Much to your relief the rest of the day passes without incident and the place clears out by 6. You’re picking up your bag when arms slip around your waist and a head of curly brown hair presses itself into your shoulder.

“Hey honey,” you say softly, turning around in Peter’s grasp. Smiling teasingly, you prod his side.

“I’d ask how work went but I think we both know how much of a superhero you were today.”

He laughs into your shoulder and you giggle, pressing a kiss to his temple.

“Wanna save me next?” You say, mirth in your voice as you wriggle your eyebrows.

“Save you from what? The effort of walking back to your flat?” He laughs. You widen your eyes dramatically.

“Peter Parker,” you gasp, mock affrontedly, “are you calling me lazy?”

“Yes!” He nods his head fervently, “I’m so glad we’re on the same page.”

You let out a cry of outrage and lunge at him only for the boy to hoist you up over his shoulder, leaning down to carry your bag.

Your protests carry through the air as he carries you away.


	2. oh my god they were roommates

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> shaving isn't always easy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: blood, mentions of a wound

“Ow!”

Peter’s head snaps up at the cry and he frowns. He stands up at his desk and makes his way to the door, poking his head out.

“Y/n? You okay?”

There’s a silence before your voice replies from the direction of the bathroom, a slight tremor in it that he might’ve missed had he not been paying attention.

“Uh, yeah, I’m fine!” Your voice sounds doubtful and his eyes narrow.

“You don’t sound fine,” he says, uncertainly.

“No, I just nicked my leg..”

He knows there’s more to it and he presses, “And?”

“And there may or may not be blood on the floor?”

“Y/n!”

He knocks on the bathroom door and you open it with a sheepish expression, bathrobe covering you and hair in a towel hat. His gaze moves down to your left leg, which hovers above the floor. To his dismay, there’s a large puddle of water tinged light pink.

“I’m sorry!” You apologise, wobbling slightly and his hand strikes out to wrap around your arm, steadying you.

“Why’re you apologising? You’re bleeding, stupid,” he mutters, sitting you down on the ledge of the bathtub.

“It honestly looks worse than it is,” you supply unhelpfully, raising your voice to reach Peter, who had walked out to get the first aid kit.

“Hey, y/n?” He says, coming back in. You hum in response.

“Shut up.”

You scowl at him and the brown haired boy laughs at you in response.

“Worst roommate ever,” you complain. In response, he looks up at you with a bright smile that you force yourself not to return, despite how endearing he looks.

“You love me,” he teases.

“Do I?” You challenge, raising an eyebrow. He finishes up on your leg and leans up, almost nose to nose with you. His breath is warm on your face and he grins when you blink, distracted.

“Yeah, I’d say so.”

“Oh shut up, Parker.” You mutter, though without any malice and he barks out a laugh, chucking your chin and leaving the bathroom.

“Fucking Peter Parker.”


	3. home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "you smell like home"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> inspired by an audio from yt

You let yourself into Peter’s room quietly, keeping the door open so as not to worry May. You’ve come to adore and respect the woman very much, raising impulsive, reckless Peter Parker on her own. You’d rather stay on good terms with the woman who raised your dork of a boyfriend and if that means keeping the door open, so be it.

Gaze landing on said dork, who’s stirring as he’s curled up under the covers, you smile softly, upon seeing his drowsy expression.

“Hey,” you say in a hushed voice. “May let me in. ‘M sorry I woke you.”

“Mmh, no, you’re good,” he mumbles, rubbing his eyes and sitting up.

“You sure you’re up to finishing the presentation tonight, pretty boy? You’re looking a little tired,” you tease lightly and he grins weakly at you through half lidded eyes.

“‘M fine, just gimme a shot of espresso or somethin’,” he mutters. Your eyebrows shoot halfway up your forehead and you laugh quietly.

“Peter, my darling, angel, baby, my love, my heart,” you coo, kneeling by the bed and running a hand over his ruffled hair, “you’ve got your curtains closed and it’s only four in the afternoon. You’re dead tired, we’ll work on it some other time. ‘S not due for another week anyway.”

He groans and makes to get up but you lay a hand on his shoulder.

“Get some rest,” you say firmly. You press a kiss to his cheek and make to get up but don’t get very far before his hand wraps around your wrist. Looking back, you’re met with a pleading gaze.

“Will you stay?”

You worry your bottom lip with your teeth at that. On one hand, you can’t say no to his puppy eyes but on the other, you really should go home and get a start on the amount of homework that has begun to pile up as a result of your procrastination.

It’s the softly uttered “C’mon, baby, please?” That does it for you and you sigh, placing your jacket on the back of his chair and slipping under the covers with him.

He lets you crawl onto the bed, settling down with your back to his chest and facing the wall. His back is to the door, arm slung around you and you grin to yourself when he intertwines his fingers with yours.

You’re comfortably warm under the covers, and you’re dozing off right as he starts to mumble to himself, in a voice that’s low enough to indicate you’re not meant to hear.

“Your hair smells so nice, I dunno, ‘s just somethin’ ‘bout it that just…it’s so soft,” he slurs quietly, “it just, you smell like home…Don’t think I’ve ever smelt this ‘n’ felt sad. You’re my home, y/n.”

The two of you fall asleep like that, holding hands and listening to the muffled sounds of the city below his window.

 


	4. breathe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> death puts things into perspective

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: anxiety attack, crying, mentions of character death

Coming back from the snap leaves Peter shaken. Going back to school is even worse. He isn’t quite sure how everything is so starkly different yet the same.

Death puts things into perspective. Sitting in advanced calculus he feels irrevocably angry, that everyone has somehow managed to bounce back, that finding out the total displacement of a particle from its formula is considered important. We died, he wants to scream, don’t you realize?

It’s when he’s sitting in Chemistry and the teacher calls on him that he feels queasy. The feeling of uneasiness that’s been troubling his stomach makes its way up his throat and his hands shake as he pushes himself away from the table and all but trips over himself in his haste to get out, ignoring her calls. Faintly, he thinks he should’ve said something.

He stumbles into the boys’ locker room, knowing that at this time of the day it’ll be empty and there’s little chance of anyone seeing him like this, like he’s broken, he thinks bitterly, taking heaving breaths. His cheeks are wet and he curls up next to one of the lockers, pressing his hands to his face.

It becomes apparent to him in that moment, cheeks sticky with tears and knees pressed against his chest, that maybe he’s not mad that everyone else has forgotten. He’s mad because he hasn’t.

“Sorry, Miss,” you say, unapologetically as you make your way out of class. She nods uncertainly in your direction and you step out.

You think logically, wracking your mind for possible places Peter might go. Hearing a small crash down the hall you head that way, finding that the noise is coming from the boys’ locker room.

You hesitate in front of the door but remembering Peter’s distraught expression you push past the door, only to have your heart practically shatter at the sight in front of you.

Crashing to your knees in front of the shaking boy, you bite your lips, unsure of what to do. It’s the rare day that Ned isn’t here and he’s always been here. You’ve never actually witnessed one of Peter’s panic attacks and watching him silently crying in front of you, you have half a mind to join him because you don’t know what to do. You don’t want to suffocate him but you don’t want to be useless.

“Peter, hey, hey,” you try, “I’m gonna put my hand on your arm, okay?”

You figure telling him is better than touching him without warning and you shuffle closer, placing your hand on his shoulder lightly.

“Peter, look at me,” you say and repeat, trying not to flinch when he turns reddened eyes to you. “Can you try and breathe?”

He shakes his head feebly. “Can’t,” he chokes out.

“Yes you can, c’mon,” you coax, rubbing his back. “Okay, can you look around for me. Five things you can see, go.”

“What?” He whispers and you repeat yourself, prompting him to frown.

“The, uh, the lockers…um, bench,” he stammers and you nod encouragingly. He manages to suck in a shaky breath and continue. “Shower, socks, I, uh…bag, oh God, is that five? How many is that?”

“Yeah that’s five, hon,” you soothe. You continue in this manner, and ten minutes later Peter looks less pale.

“C’mon,” you say, slipping an arm around his waist and helping him up. He clutches your arm, looking pleadingly at you.

“I can’t go back, y/n, I can’t,” he rambles.

“We’re gonna go home, Pete,” you tell him and he just about sags in relief. You look away and focus on getting him out, supporting his weight.

“Y/n.”

You look back at him, raising your brows expectantly.

“Thank you.”

You smile softly. “Always.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the always isn't a reference to snape, i don't like the man v much so just a lil psa for you all


End file.
